The Reality of Loving Someone at First Sight

En route to Pedro Gil Station

Love. Seriously, that word confuses me. I have heard a lot of stories about love, stories that made men all giddy about its existence, stories that lived through all the ages despite its ridiculousness. For one, Romeo and Juliet. For real? A girl and a boy meeting each other and absurdly killing themselves thinking that the other was already dead? What's wrong with you, people?! How can that story be one of the greatest love stories ever told?! Don't get me wrong, I'm not an anti-love or anything (if there's such a person) but come, on! There are no other love stories that infuriate me more than love suicides... Well, there actually is and that's love at first sight. Come to think of it, Romeo fell in love with Juliet the first time he saw her, forgetting all about the sweet Rosaline. (Okay, I'm forever obliterating Romeo and Juliet from my existence from now on!) How can you fall in love with someone you just saw and be willing to die for him/ her? How can you feel that glorious feeling to someone whom you just met? How?!

I look away from the sign above the door of the train. No use contemplating on that thought but there's this feeling that kept me glancing at that sign.

"At tinangay na ng tren ang naglakbay na pag-ibig, sa bentanilya'y may panyo't may naiwang nananangis."

[And the love was swept away by the rushing train with a handkerchief and loss of love lingering in one of its windows.]

- Jose Corazon de Hesus

Ludicrous. I glare at the sign as if it was my public enemy number one. To feel sadness for love is natural so why do people keep on loving if they know they will keep on hurting?

I suddenly snort and look the other way. That's the time I notice that someone was watching me. Across the crowd inside the train, there's this gap between two men, and in that space, I saw him. A boy around his late teens I presume. His eyes are dark and I become aware of his lashes despite the distance. They are long and dark like his eyes but they aren't girly like mine. He's standing in front of an old lady who's checking her finger nails.

I stare back at him. It's during these times that I wish I have laser eyes so I could just stare and get rid of him. His eyes are making me fidgety. I don't like it.

I frown and look blankly at the door instead. There was 98% possibility that the guy is a member of a gang or something that cons a lot of people by hypnotizing them so it's better not to look back at him again. Just being cautious.

I hear the unmistakable voice of the driver through the speakers saying "Pedro Gil Station. Pedro Gil Station." Once the train skidded to a stop, the torrent of people push against me as they hurriedly walk out towards the door lest it closes again. I hear a lot of "excuse mes" and I try my best to move at the side giving way. Believe me, it's an arduous task. It takes a lot of skill to ride a train here in the Philippines.

The "beep-beep-beep" signals the closing of the door and that's the only time I heave a sigh of relief. The train's almost deserted now. I see a vacant seat beside the door. I decide to sit down. Five more stations to go, I think to myself.

I was looking at the different establishments along Taft when at the corner of my eye, I see someone sat beside me. It's not my habit to look at people when they sit beside me, trains or buses. It felt rude. I myself don't want to be looked at when I rode a bus or train.

In my peripheral vision, I see the guy rest his chin on his hands and look at me from time to time. That's the moment I notice that he's the boy who's staring at me a while ago. His long dark lashes frame his eyes. Bet they're lovely... But the guy kept on staring. Fine. Stare away. 

But I broke a sweat. He's creepy. What if he really is a conman or something? What if he asks for my wallet or phone? What if he stab me if I don't think fast enough to just give him what he wants?! This is not good. I'm teetering. My heart skips a beat. 

I look around the train and spot a lot of men and a few women so if ever this guy did something to me, they'll come to my rescue, right? Right? I calm myself. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Okay, that's enough. The train smells. Here goes nothing.

"Do you have a problem with me?" I suddenly blurt embarrassedly. Embarrassedly because I realize that I shouted the first three words of my sentence so I toned it down to a whisper.

Surprise registers on the boy's face as he continue to stare.

"I- I'm sorry?" he sputters, clearly taken aback by my scandal behavior.

"You kept on staring at me!" I hiss at him.

The boy's eyebrows shoot up. "You mean, I was that obvious?"

I raise my eyebrow. "Stop doing that or I'll scream", I threaten.

The boy sighs and looks at his palm. "I'm sorry. It's just that I noticed you glaring at the sign." He pouts his lips and points at the sign bearing two lines from Jose Corazon de Hesus' poem.

"Do you hate it or something?" he nonchalantly asks.

I stare at him as if he just threw up in front of me. "Something." I retort.

The minute I answered, the look of disappointment flit away from his face.

"I don't hate it. The verb hate is weak to describe what I feel about it. I loathe it."

His face fell. "Oh."